Not a Wizard
by hollister30
Summary: That split second after Hagrid announces his reason for visiting (first book, slight AU)


I'm a... I'm a wizard?

That's impossible. I just. I can't believe. It's not true.

I stare at the giant man who just barged into our house. It's possible that he's deranged, isn't it? He's holding an umbrella, and he's got this big untidy beard. He could be a psych patient. That's got to be it. Any other explanation is simply out of the equation, because as sure as I am Harry Potter, I am not a wizard.

I am not a wizard, and I will never ever be a wizard. It's a ridiculous thought. It's ridiculous that I even thought that, at all. Even if it was for the briefest second. I'm eleven and should know better. Honestly. I humph a bit at myself and blink some more at the big guy. He's not leaving. And it returns to me that maybe he's dangerous. Maybe he's one of those dangerous-crazies. One of those guys that's gonna slaughter everyone in my family. My glance turns to Uncle Vernon. I swallow. As much as I hate him, it would kill me (oh, literally!) if some deranged man came in here and killed him because of me. Maybe I can sort things out.

"You must be mistaken, I'm - I'm not a wizard, certainly not," I state. I'm taken aback by my own stuttering. It sounds as if even I'm unsure about this. That's ridiculous. I'm ridiculous. I'm not a wizard.

But what even is a wizard? I'm just assuming here that this guy's talking about the magic-type men, the type of wizard that only ever shows up in storybooks and dreams and nightmares. What if there's a different definition of wizard that I'm not thinking about right now? What if I truly am a wizard, but just a different type of wizard? Without the wands and the actual magic and the pointy hats and robes? Am I actually a wizard? My questioning gaze lands on Aunt Petunia. She looks especially guilty right now. And throttled. And red-faced. She's screaming.

"Stay away from Harry, you mad man!"

There's a sense, an aura, of something in that voice. She knows something. And she's pretending she doesn't. Uncle Vernon looks the same, a little less the same, but still, it's there. He knows. And Aunt Petunia knows. They both know. And this man - this 'mad man' - he knows, too, he certainly does know. And suddenly it's all a lot less ridiculous and it's just a lot scarier. I feel like I've been living a lie for years and years and I'm only finding out about it now. What am I missing? What have I been missing for the past couple years of my life? Certainly I've been missing a couple huge details that would fill me in as to what's going on right now. If I knew those things, I certainly wouldn't be this confused. Would I?

Of course I wouldn't. I'm Harry Potter, little orphan boy who was adopted by his reluctant Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, little cousin who was kicked and mocked by both schoolmates AND Dudley, little student sitting in math class who has a vague idea about what's going on but the teachers just don't care. I'm Harry Potter, and for the first time I feel like something special, because people are fighting over me, and that's a huge stepping stone in my life. This is the type of thing I used to dream about, and now it's happening, and still it's all kind of weird now that it's actually happening in real life.

Is this what it's like for everyone else? Is this what it's like for Dudley, on his birthday, when all our family members and all his school friends come over to the house and make a big deal out of it, a bigger deal than it actually is? And he actually enjoys all the attention? I have to admit that I enjoy it. I have to. I'd be ridiculous not to admit it, especially when I've been dreaming about it for so long. I can't believe it. Everything's coming full circle. I can't think anymore. Every time I let myself feel a bit closer to home, to what I think is home, it all goes down the drain. All my hopes and aspirations disappear as soon as I reach close enough to touch them. I won't let that happen this time. I need to maintain the truth in my head, and not let myself get too caught up in this absurdity.

I am Harry Potter, and I am not a wizard.


End file.
